


sakusa's secret waifu

by iwaizumishousewife



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sakusa Kiyoomi, I suck at writing smut but oh well, M/M, POV Miya Atsumu, POV Sakusa Kiyoomi, Shameless Smut, Simp Sakusa Kyoomi, Streamer Miya Atsumu, Top Miya Atsumu, alternating POV's, bisexual sakusa kyoomi, they get freaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaizumishousewife/pseuds/iwaizumishousewife
Summary: atsumu is a secret streamer, or 'vtuber' named kitsumi, and boy is sakusa a simp for her. when he finds out his crush and atsumu are the same person, it all goes down hill from there.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 130





	sakusa's secret waifu

**Author's Note:**

> trying to broaden my collection of smut sakuatsu fits ;) hope you enjoy! I only know so much about streaming so it's kind of limited, and the alternating pov's might be confusing but I tried my best!!

Atsumu has a secret. A secret that none of his teammates know about, and sure as hell won’t find out ever, even on his deathbed. 

That secret being that he is a streamer.

A ‘Vtuber’ to be exact, with a 3d anime girl avatar and everything. It was the perfect way to launch his streaming career, to be honest. He’s a professional volleyball player, and someone would probably recognize him and post it all over twitter. He may not be top-teir famous, but Atsumu has fans. Rabid ones at that. If they ever found out he was in his bedroom, using face-tracking software to appear as an anime girl on screen, with a voice mod to make him sound like a teenage girl, he’s sure they would lose it. His teammates too. 

That’s why no one is allowed in his house, period. There are PR boxes from gaming companies, his new and old streaming equipment literally everywhere, and tons of his merch. That’s not an exaggeration either. His place is littered with shirts, hoodies, etc. that have his avatar on it. It’s almost shameful, really, how much of his own stuff he has. It’s not like he actually bought all of it, but rather the company liscensing and manufacturing his products sends him everything they produce of his stuff, and extras for his friends. Which he does not give out. And will never give out. It’s embarrassing, which is why even Hinata’s puppy eyes won’t win him a sleepover. 

As he gets up to start his day, he steps over boxes of funko pops, an old mic that has found its way in his hallway, and a shit ton of cords that are all tangled up and fucking everywhere. Usually Atsumu is a clean freak, almost as bad as Sakusa, but lately his time has been divided between practice, games, and streaming. Today he has at least 3 hours before a major 7 hour stream marathon he promised to his followers, which means three hours to get his place cleaned up, run errands, and get set up for his stream. The one thing he does take pride in is his immaculate set up, which he keeps as clean and tidy as possible.

By the time his apartment is looking half decent, the trash is taken out and he’s ordered enough groceries to feed himself for another week, it’s 15 minutes until his stream starts. Atsumu usually preps by pushing his hair back with a headband. He puts on some comfy clothes, gets some water to hydrate and sets it to the side, and fixes his set up. 

The anime avatar, named ‘Kitsumi’, that is supposed to embody his persona is a girl with long blonde hair that has black tips. Her eyes are big and gold, and she sports a pair of fox ears, black with white tips. The face tracking software his PC is equipped with makes it to where even when Atsumu moves his eyebrows or frowns, his avatar immitates him. It was definitely freaky at first, but after endless nights of streaming Kitsumi has become a part of him. 

His channel has grown immensely in the last few weeks, partially due to his inescapable male-ness. Atsumu isn’t fooling himself. He knows the reason everyone is charmed by his channel is the vulgar language coming out of his cutesy avatar, paired with the high pitch voice and his kansai accent. Most of his devoted followers believe he is a former farm girl in uni, making her ‘big city dreams’ come true as a streamer, albeit a shy one. Though most of his followers are male, the smaller percentage that are female seem to be enamoured with Kitsumi too, and her loud and abrasive personality. It delights Atsumu to no end, getting attention on and off the court. It weirdly strokes his ego, despite the entire channel being based off of stuff that had nothing to do with him as a person. 

On stream tonight he’s playing Genshin Impact, with his favorite character, Kaeya. 

“Isn’t he just the fucking cutest?” Atsumu cooes, wiggling his eyebrows as he makes his character glide off a cliff. He looks over at the chat, and there are messages coming in one after another, like,  _ So that’s your type? _ Or  _ He’s my favorite too!!  _ He laughs, running his tongue across the top of his teeth in Kitsumi’s signature face, to show her fangs. Kitsumi’s personality is Atsumu’s for the most part. She is sassy, intense and snarky like him, although sometimes he panders to the cutesy anime girl stuff. It’s nothing to make his fans happy, even if it makes him feel a bit stupid. 

A name pops up on his screen, one Atsumu is all too familiar with.  _ clean_freak _ . Whoever this guy or girl is, donates to every one of Kitsumi’s streams, and every time the same amount. This user is the reason Atsumu put a donation limit on his channel, because on one of his first Kitsumi streams,  _ clean_freak _ donated  _ five hundred dollars _ . It completely threw the stream into chaos, and immediately after Atsumu logged off and changed his settings to have a donation cap. 

_ clean_freak _ donates their usual ten thousand bits, the username flashing across the screen next to Kitsumi’s avatar. He makes Kitsumi smile and clap her hands together, and blow a kiss to the screen. The chat blows up again with _ awwws _ and  _ i wonder who clean_freak is!! _ , which is exactly what Atsumu is doing. It’s probably some older man with a pension for spending his hard earned money on people who will never acknowledge him in real life, but Atsumu isn’t complaining. They  _ are _ paying for all of Atsumu’s new streaming equipment, so it’s not like he can complain. If anything, he imagines it’s what having a sugar daddy is like. 

With that in mind, he continues to stream for another 8 hours. 

☆☆☆

Sakusa has a secret. A secret that none of his teammates know about, and will never  _ ever _ find out about, even if there’s a gun to his head. That secret being that he’s obsessed with a ‘Vtuber’ that his cousin Kimori sent him a while back. 

A vtuber by the name of Kitsumi. 

Logically, Sakusa knows that she’s not real, and whoever is behind the avatar isn’t the same as her on screen persona. However, Sakusa threw that rational reasoning out the window long ago, and is fully enamoured with Kitsumi. He watches every stream, whether it’s in the background while he’s cooking, or when he’s relaxing in bed, or on his runs in the morning. He’s fully obsessed with her outright boldness, and her cute kansai accent. It reminds him of someone familiar, though he’s not sure who, but he doesn’t really care because she is the main focal point of his free time. His favorite part about her is that she’s clean and organized, and she even shows off her setup on her insta every time she cleans it. It makes Sakusa melt. Some might call him a simp, like Miya or Hinata, which he totally is. He spends all his free money on Kitsumi merch, hell, he probably has like ten of her shirts alone. Sakusa owns every plushie she has, and he even has a little keychain with her profile avatar on it. It’s the one thing outside of volleyball that comforts him.

That’s why absolutely no one is allowed near his apartment except for Kimori. If anyone ever walked into his bedroom, they would see a three foot poster of Kitsumi, doing a  _ nyah _ pose and winking. And it would be exponentially mortifying. He may a huge fucking simp, but broadcasting it outside his bedroom is not a thing he’s willing to do. He even has a candle that’s supposed to smell like her. Yeah. Nobody is getting within an inch of his fucking bedroom.

At least that’s what he thinks until the night after one of their games.

Sakusa likes to assume nobody will ever burst his nice, safe bubble of privacy. Every attempt to encroach upon his personal space is rebuffed, even when Bokuto is on his knees begging. He can usually blame it on the mysophobia, which _ is _ part of the problem, but sue him for liking to keep his interests private. He doesn’t try to go to his other teammates’ houses either unless they ask, which usually ends up being a get-together at either Bokuto and Hinata’s shared place. Miya is weirdly private for someone so outwardly egocentric, but Sakusa doesn’t mind, because he can assume that Miya’s place is an absolute wreck crawling with germs. He certainly doesn’t think anything of it until the night of January 24th. 

Or as Sakusa refers to it as: The night that his whole fucking world got turned upside down and he now requires soul searching.

Sakusa is standing awkwardly in the kitchen with Akaashi, Bokuto’s boyfriend. Both of them are comfortable with the silence, or at least the silence between them. In the other room, the rest of the team that actually came to bokuto’s get-together are getting shit-faced drunk, which Sakusa isn’t very fond of. He’d rather avoid the whole being there anyways, but Meian says it’s important for ‘team bonding’. 

Later, when the party starts to settle down to a slow trickle of people calling cabs and stumbling down the hallway drunk, Sakusa decides it’s time to go. He bids farewell to those that are still playing cards and drinking, and walks down the staircase to the first floor. 

When he turns down to walk the last flight of staris, Atsumu, his most annoying teammate, is sitting on the bottom step, looking lost. He’s blinking slowly, looking trashed, and fumbling to use his phone. After a good five minutes of watching him struggle, Sakusa sighs and walks down to meet him.

“Do you need help, Miya?” He asks, prodding Atsumu with his finger. Atsumu turns around, smiling like an idiot. 

“Omi-Omiiii!” He slurs, trying to stand up. “I want t’go hoooome, but I can’t find my uber.” He almost looks like a lost puppy, leaning against the wall to support himself.

“I’ll take you home,” Sakusa decides out loud, grabbing Atsumu by the arm. Atsumu lets him, leaning against Sakusa so that he doesn’t blow over like a sheet of paper. They manage to make it out of the lobby and next to the curb, looking for Atsumu’s cab. Sakusa takes his phone from Atsumu’s hand and looks to see what car they’re looking for, which is conveniently parked about ten foot away. Sakusa figures he can help Atsumu get to his apartment, and then order another ride of his own. 

By the time they finally get to Atsumu’s door, Sakusa is exhausted, He may be a pro-volleyball player, but carrying Atsumu, who is fucking heavy, all the way down the hallway is kind of exhausting. He hopes he gets good karma in his next life for this.

Sakusa digs the keys out of Atsumu’s back pocket, making the other man giggle and squirm. He fumbles to support Atsumu and get the key in the damn hole at the same time, but yet he somehow manages despite Atsumu groping him like an idiot. 

“Miya, which one is your bedroom?” He asks, struggling to keep Atsumu awake and coherent. 

“Ummm...just throw me on’na couch...isss fine…” Atsumu barely raises his head, nodding to Sakusa.

“No, I came all this way, I’ll put you to bed. Which one is it?” When Atsumu fails to answer, Sakusa huffs, dragging him along as he starts poking around. 

He finally finds a room with a damn bed in it that looks like it’s the master bedroom. He picks Atsumu up bridal-style and deposits him on the bed, pulling the comforter over him. 

_ Huh, Atsumu almost looks cute when he’s not awake _ , he muses. Sakusa pats his head like a dog and turns around, coming face to face with something that looks all too familiar, though he can’t put his finger on it. 

It’s a streaming set up, with a mic stand and two monitors. There’s a bottle of pink sanitizer that Sakusa owns too, specifically because Kitsumi has it on her desk. And there’s a package of the same disinfectant wipes too. And the same limited-edition mouse she uses, as well as the fox mousepad she owns. It eerily looks identical to her setup, and when Sakusa turns around, sure enough, there is a ‘Kamisama Kiss’ poster hanging on the wall directly behind where the camera usually points. He walks out silently, locking the door behind him.

By the time he’s arrived at his apartment, he’s really starting to lose it. Either Atsumu is a dedicated fan of Kitsumi, or he is Kitsumi, which makes Sakusa want to die. Not that he hates Atsumu, per say, but Sakusa has had a crush on Kitsumi since she started streaming. Finding out that you’re in love with the person that has seen you take a volleyball to the face is terrifying. And Atsumu is annoying, and egocentric, and fucking hot. He’s intimidating, and if it’s him combined with the love of Sakusa’s life, Sakusa is done for. 

He’s going to confront him.

☆☆☆

Atsumu has fully recovered from his terrible hangover by Monday, thank the gods. He even got to stream for eight hours uninterrupted yesterday, although the ever loyal  _ clean_freak _ didn’t show up to Kitsumi’s Sims Stream. Maybe it was too boring? He shrugs. 

He’s standing there in the locker room, lost in his thoughts as he changes. What he isn’t suspecting is Sakusa walking straight up to him, and standing there staring at him with this weird look on his face. 

“Um, is there something ya need, Omi-kun?” What he doesn’t expect is the question Sakusa follows up with.

“Are you a streamer?” Atsumu chokes, looking around to see if any of the other guys are listening. Sakusa just leans back and raises an eyebrow. 

“Um, no?” He stutters, trying to look as calm as possible.

“So you aren’t a Vtuber streamer by the name of Kitsumi?” Sakusa prods, analyzing Atsumu’s reaction. Atsumu just gapes like a fish, giving him his answer. 

“It’s fine, I won’t tell anyone. I just recognized your stream setup when I dropped you off the other night when you were hammered.” Atsumu nods, feeling faint. 

Sakusa walks off, leaving Atsumu feeling embarrassed and confused because he doesn’t remember Friday night. 

☆☆☆

Sakusa can’t keep his eyes off of Atsumu. He’s pretty sure the infatuation with Kitsumi has transferred to Atsumu just by finding out they’re the same person. Atsumu and Kitsumi talk the same. They have the same mannerisms. Sakusa knows how Kitsumi  _ really _ smells. She may smell like sweat and whatever douchy cologne Atsumu uses, but now he  _ knows _ and god is it intoxicating. 

It gets to the point where he’s definitely stolen a shirt from Atsumu’s locker and put it in a plastic bag because he’s fucking psycho. It kind of feels stalkerish but he’s too caught up in the euphoria of knowing who Kitsumi is to care. 

Sakusa swears that he’s going to admit his feelings as soon as possible, and maybe his weird obsession too because it feels like a very dirty secret at this point. Or he can just wait until Atsumu confronts him. He’s probably figured out that Sakusa is an obsessed fan by how he recognized the stream set up with one look.

☆☆☆

Atsumu wants to know how in the hell Sakusa recognized his setup without coming to the conclusion that the other guy is a devoted fan. He has to be, if he recognizes it that easy. Maybe he should just ask him straight up? Atsumu is kind of intimidated by Kyoomi, but he’s dying to know. He plans on asking him before practice tomorrow.

☆☆☆

Atsumu is a coward. He never confronts Sakusa, but he can feel his eyes on him every time they’re in the same room. 

He finally gets his chance when they decide to get some extra practice in and are the last ones left in the locker room. Sakusa is leaned over, digging through his bag, probably for some hand sanitizer or something.

Atsumu walks over, leaning against the locker next to Sakusa. Sakusa straightens up, raising an eyebrow. 

“So, uh,” Atsumu clears his throat, “Ya watch my streams, Omi-kun? You must be a devoted fan, huh?” Atsumu smiles, despite the fucking nerves that are threatening to make him run away as fast as possible. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ve watched every stream you’ve put out, if that counts.” Sakusa looks casual as he admits this, although Atsumu gets the feeling he’s not letting on to everything he wants to say to Atsumu. 

“Oh yeah? You should come watch me stream sometime!” 

“Sure,” Sakusa agrees, much to Atsumu’s surprise. 

“Okay, you want to just come over tonight? I could stream for a bit, and maybe we could get some dinner.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Sakusa packs up his bag and follows him out.

☆☆☆

Atsumu frowns as he ends the stream, turning around to where Sakusa is sitting on his bed out of frame. The other man is lounging across the side of his bed, watching Atsumu with his eyes half-lidded.

“I can’t believe they didn’t show up again!” Atsumu exclaims, frowning.

“Who?”

“This guy, at least I think he’s a guy...He shows up to all my streams but he missed the last couple streams except for one. But he donates like every time! Not that I need him too, but I guess he doesn’t like watching anymore…” Atsumu trails off.

“What’s his username?”

“' _c_ _ lean_freak' _ . He’s like my most devoted fans.” 

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Atsumu repeats, looking at him with confusion.

“Yeah, about that...That’s my username. I’ve been using my extra sponsor money from that sports drink band to donate to your account. I just haven’t been on lately, since it’s kind of awkward that I know you.” Sakusa sits up casually as if he hasn’t dropped a bomb of information to Atsumu. 

“Um, what?” Atsumu squeaks.

“Yeah, I guess I’m like a super fan, whatever you call it…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could say I’m obsessed with Kitsumi. You should, um, come over and see my collection sometime?” 

It almost sounds like...a date? 

Atsumu nods, thoroughly baffled by this turn of events. 

“Tomorrow at 7?”

☆☆☆

Sakusa is fucking over the moon. He’s not going to admit it to Atsumu, but his skin is crawling with anticipation at the thought of his favorite streamer coming to his house. And sitting on his bed. That has Atsumu’s avatar on it. 

He’s nervous, of course, because this might just come off as psychotic. His room is literally plastered with Kitsumi merch, so if Atsumu wants to even look at him after this it’ll be a fucking miracle.

Atsumu shows up around 6:55 p.m. He’s leaning in the doorway when Sakusa opens the door, wearing a nice grey sweater and some black joggers. His hair is messy and damp, falling in front of his eyes.

Sakusa leads him down the hallway and points to the sink in the kitchen, and Atsumu humors him and washes his hands. 

Sakusa can feel his hands start to tremble as Atsumu finishes up and dries his hands. This is the moment of truth. Either Atsumu is going to be freaked out or somehow chill, which Sakusa doubts. 

“So…” Atsumu trails off, walking towards him.

“Yeah. It’s...alot. But I figured I should show you...since we’re friends?” He phrases it as a question, because half of him wants more and the other half wants him to hear Atsumu say that they’re more than just teammates, or coworkers. 

“It’s fine,” Atsumu assures him. “I’m honestly kind of flattered? If that makes sense.”

“Well...you’ll understand when you see it. It’s my biggest, deepest, darkest secret.”

☆☆☆

Atsumu is not ready. Not even a little bit. Because covering every inch of Kyoomi’s room is Kitsumi merchandise. There’s plushies lining a shelf, posters covering the space above his bed, and even his comforter has a print with Kitsumi’s icon on it. Atsumu marvels at all the weird stuff that Sakusa has, like the candle that supposedly smells like her, and wait, is that- Oh yeah, that’s definitely commissioned porn. Atsumu can’t help but laugh at the sheer amount of craziness that is happening right now.

He sets the candle back down and turns to see Sakusa setting on his bed, looking embarrassed as fuck. He has his head in his hands, looking mortified. It’s kind of cute.

Atsumu realizes something in that moment as Kyoomi continues to look anywhere but his eyes. 

He’s Kyoomi’s fucking waifu. His crush. His obsession. It strokes that part of his ego that he hates to admit is there. 

And he decides in that split moment, he’s going to fuck Kiyoomi senseless on those damn sheets with his avatar’s face on it. 

Atsumu walks over to Kitsumi shrine on Kiyoomi’s dresser and takes the wig and pair of fox ears and fixes it to fit on his hair.

‘Um, what are you doing, Miya? Those are limited edition.” Sakusa finally meets his eyes and looks straight up offended that Atsumu is touching his precious waifu-wig. Atsumu walks over to him, smirking.

“I’ll get ya new one, don’t worry, Omi-Omi. But right now, I’m going to fuck you as Kitsumi and ruin the fuck out of it. I’ll even say some of her catchphrases.” He winks, bending down so they’re face to face. 

“Is that all right?”

Kiyoomi looks up at him, his whole face red but his eyes confident.

“Ruin me.”

Atsumu pushes him down by the chest, crawling on the bed to kneel in between Kyoomi’s knees.

“This is kind of hot, if I’m being fucking honest,” Sakusa pants, watching as Atsumu pulls his shirt over his head. His chest is broad, and his waist is toned and slim. Sakusa watches as he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his pants, pulling them down and revealing his tight briefs. 

“Oh yeah?” Atsumu purrs, adjusting the wig. He flutters his lashes, then leans forward on his hands and crawls up to Sakusa’s face. 

Their lips meet with force, teeth knocking together. Atsumu pulls back, spit stringing between the two of them, and goes for Kiyoomi’s neck, licking and sucking to elicit those fucking cinematic moans out of his mouth. He reaches down to pull Kyoomi’s shirt off, and trails his lips down from Kyoomi’s chest to his abs, pressing kisses across the area above his waistband.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, looking at Kyoomi’s flushed face. Kyoomi nods, wiggling his hips a little. Atsumu reaches down and pulls his sweats and his boxers down at the same time, his hard-on popping out. He licks up and down, taking Kyoomi in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down slowly. Kiyoomi moans, his hips bucking against Atsumu’s face. Atsumu hollows his cheeks and moves up and down faster, making Kyoomi come undone. 

“Kitsumi...I’m...fucking…uunggh,” Kyoomi moans. Atsumu lets go and says in his best Kitsumi voice:

“Come in my mouth, you fucking simp,” He goes back to sucking with ferocity, and Kiyoomi gasps, shooting his load straight into Atsumu’s mouth and unfortunately through his nostrils, making him gag. Committing true to the waifu part, he crosses his eyes and pulls back, making his best ahegao face. Then he fucking sits back up and wipes the cum off of his face, watching Kyoomi as he closes his eyes and leans back.

“Hey, we’re not done, simp,” He imitates Kitsumi again, giving Kiyoomi the  _ nyah-nyah _ pose, sticking out his tongue. 

“Kiwoomi, be a good boy and let me fuck you,” Atsumu purrs, spreading Kiyoomi’s legs. Sakusa leans up on his elbows and gestures to the nightstand.

“There’s lube and condoms,” He breathes, still looking flustered. Atsumu grins ferrally. He grabs the small bottle from the drawer, and a gold foil, tearing the package open with his teeth. He squirts the lube on his fingers and uses one to slip into Sakusa’s tight hole. He slowly inserts another one, scissoring them both back and forth to spread Sakusa open. Sakusa moans like a man who’s never had his prostate touched before, his legs writhing as he grinds against Atsumu’s fingers.

Atsumu pulls them out and slides the condom on. 

“Are ya ready, pretty boy?” He murmurs, eliciting a needy  _ yes _ from Sakusa.

“Ya sure?”

“ _ Yes _ ..Please fuck me... _ Please _ , Kitsumi…” Sakusa begs.

Atsumu gives in and pushes his dick right into Sakusa’s tight hole. It’s so fucking tight he almost comes undone, but he can’t just yet. Sakusa is becoming a begging mess underneath him and he wants to burn this image in his brain so he can remember it forever. Sakusa Kyoomi begging for his dick. What an ego boost. 

He starts off gentle, slowly picking up the pace until it’s rough enough for Atsumu. He grips Sakusa’s hips so hard it’s surely to leave bruises. He pushes Sakusa’s legs up until they are level with his shoulders, and fucks him hard and deep. Sakusa reaches forward and grips Atsumu by the wig, which isn’t a great thing to grab, and it falls off, landing on the floor. 

Atsumu pauses, sure that Sakusa is going to immediately get turned off by the lack of wig which is part of the whole reason he assumes they’re fucking. He looks down, but Sakusa still has his eyes squeezed shut, his black curls damp against his pale skin. 

“Why did you stop?” Sakusa grabs him by the back of his head and pulls him into a biting kiss. “Fuck me harder, Atsumu.”

That makes Atsumu really fucking break. He’s pretty sure he blacks out from how hard he fucks Sakusa, leaving love bites all over Sakusa’s chest as he does so. He finally finishes, moaning into Sakusa’s neck and collapsing on top of him. Sakusa’s stomach is covered in cum from his second orgasm, although Atsumu doesn’t mind. 

“That was really fucking hot…” Atsumu mumbles, resting his cheek on Sakusa’s cheek.

‘Yeah...I got to fuck my waifu who is secretly my hot teammate,” Sakusa sighs, “This is a dream come true.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! this was originally an idea from my best friend that evolved into me writing an entire fic lol. pls leave me a comment if you like or if you have any other suggestions about what I should write!!


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